Love Does Not End With Death
by Do Whatever You Want I'm Dead
Summary: John Laurens has died. But he hasn't gone to the Other Side. Why? He finds his friend and love, Alexander Hamilton, to figure out why. Lams. Lots of tears were shed while writing this, so if you don't want to cry, don't read. One-shot. Rated T for somewhat adult themes.


_**A/N: Hey, everyone! I have recently given in to the pressure and gotten into "Hamilton"! I am honestly glad that I am!**_

 _ **This is a one-shot that I imagine could have actually happened in history without our knowledge.**_

 _ **Lams, lots of sadness... if you don't want to bawl your eyes out or don't like Lams, don't read!**_

 _ **I don't own the people or events in this story. Those characters belong to history - and Lin-Manuel Miranda, of course.**_

 _ **Please enjoy! Leave a review if you have anything I can do to make my writing better!**_

* * *

I wasn't aware of the pain, not after the day was done.

I look around, realize that I am still here, but not alive. It's a strange feeling, like you're in the water, yet you're able to breathe like a normal person.

Was this the Other Side that Alex always talked about? Where his mother went? Where our fellow soldiers have gone?

No, it can't be. I can't accept that.

I go to Yorktown, where I had last heard Alex was going. It's easier now; I don't require rest anymore. I can simply go wherever and never tire.

When I arrive, I see no soldiers. I see celebrations, shouts of, "We won! We won! We won!" all around me.

I smile, then realize that Alex must be up in New York City with his wife. I sigh, wishing it wasn't illegal for what I feel for him, what he felt for me. I look back at what I leave behind, the men who, to my fury, all are sent back to their old masters.

Oh, how my heart burns against the institution that made them like this…

I finally arrive in New York City a few weeks later, and I see Alexander with his wife, Elizabeth. I look on in envy as Alex plays with his newborn infant son to take a break from his work. Elizabeth leaves them and comes back with a letter.

"Alexander? A letter has just arrived from South Carolina," she says, and I immediately know what it is.

"It's from John Laurens. I'll read it later," he replies, and my heart aches even more for the man I love.

"No, it's not," Elizabeth interjects, and Alexander stops cold. I keep the child occupied by making myself somewhat visible to him and playing with him so Alexander could hear the news.

"Will you read it?" he asks as he stands up, picking up the child and holding him close. I make myself scarce again, my eyes on Alexander the whole time.

Elizabeth's words are distant, but a little emotional as she says, "On Tuesday, the twenty-seventh, Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens was killed in a gunfight against British troops in South Carolina. These troops had not yet received word from Yorktown that the war was over. He's buried here until his family can send for his remains. As you may know, Lieutenant Colonel Laurens was engaged in recruiting three thousand men for the first all-black military regiment. The surviving members of this regiment have been returned to their masters."

When Alexander hears everything, he places the child back on the ground, where Elizabeth picks him up again. Alexander's face is like that of one who has just seen a massacre – or worse.

Elizabeth asks, "Alexander? Are you alright?"

Alexander only shakes his head as he heads back inside, saying, "I have so much work to do."

I follow him into his study, and I watch as he sits at his desk, his head in his hands. I make myself somewhat solid and visible, and place a hand on his shoulder, my own look of sorrow and regret on my face as he turns around and sees me.

"Jack?..."

"Alex. I –"

I am stopped from saying anything more when he suddenly stands up and hugs me tightly. "Jack… so… you…."

"Yes. I'm so sorry, Alex. I'm so, so sorry."

We hold each other for a while afterward, only the sounds of our breathing filling the room while we relish the company we give each other.

"So what's it like?" he finally asks. "Death?"

I chuckle a little. His slight obsession with death still stood strong, even after all these years. "Like a beat without a melody, Alex."

"And the Other Side?"

"Haven't gone there yet. Not sure why."

We pull apart for only a moment, and he says, "Perhaps there's a reason, Jack. Perhaps there's a reason you're still in this world instead of the Other Side."

I only smile and say, "I can't think of anyone better to figure it out with than you, Alex."

We share one last hug before I make myself scarce and he gets writing. Eliza comes in for a moment, and I can see in her eyes that she truly loves Alexander as much as I do. I sigh before settling down by their child, playing with him again.

* * *

It is a thrill to be with Alex again, although it is strange to be there yet not be seen, heard, or felt. It is like I am looking at a three-dimensional moving picture. I watch as he helps America with the Articles of Confederation, the Constitution (which I honestly could say could have gone better, but I can't really do much about it, seeing as I am not one of the living), and even becomes the first Secretary of the Treasury. I cannot be proud of him any more than then.

It is an event that happens while he is the Secretary of the Treasury that has me on edge about Alexander for years afterward. His wife and kids are going upstate to visit their father (or grandfather, in the case of the kids) while Alexander stays in town to work on his financial plan for America. I am happy that he is working on something that he has been so passionate about since the Revolution. One night, however, after a long time of not sleeping, I am more solid and visible, trying to convince him to go to bed when someone knocks on the door.

He goes to answer it, and it is a young woman who would be ravishing to most men. She explains a situation that I can show sympathy for, but the way she does it just screams "DANGER" to me. When he goes to her house to give her the money she needs, her true intentions become quite clear. I have to leave to keep myself from solidifying and interrupting everything.

I should have done that. If I had, so much that happened afterward would never have happened.

It isn't until after Alexander resigns as Treasury Secretary when the problems begin to arise. He is in his office when he is approached by a few men (one of which is Aaron Burr – never liked him) and accused of illegal activity during his time as the Secretary of the Treasury. He proves them wrong beyond a shadow of a doubt that it isn't what he is accused of for his financials – it is his affair and the blackmail that happens afterward. Someone else somehow gets ahold of the information and accuses him further, and he is forced to publish what is infamously known as "The Reynolds Pamphlet".

When I see what it does to Elizabeth and his family, I approach him in anger. It is palpable in the way I keep erratically popping in and out of sight, my voice ever audible to Alexander.

"How could you do that, Alexander?! You have not only destroyed your own reputation – which, I will admit, will have been destroyed anyway – but you have essentially destroyed whatever else you had with Eliza! Your wife! The one woman who should have been in the forefront of your mind when you were with that Reynolds girl!" The candlelight flickers erratically as I continue my rant, and I can see Alexander's face grow in not only guilt but regret and a plea for me to stop. I don't though. "You not only destroyed your marriage, but I will not be surprised if you lose so much more than just something you simply cannot touch – hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Eliza never wanted to be near you again, or if she refuses to even acknowledge your very presence anymore! For all you know, she'll move in with her father again and never leave because of what you've done! And you know what, Alexander? She'll probably take your children with her! Yeah, that's right; you may never even see your own children again! All because of what you have done!" I turn to the door and walk towards it.

I hear a small voice filled with fear behind me. "Jack… please…."

I only turn my head so he can see my own anger and anguish. "Now you have lost me. Goodbye, Hamilton. I hope you're happy now."

I make myself completely invisible in both sight and sound, and the candle flame extinguishes. I can see the tears fall down Alexander's face as he reaches out at thin air and softly calls out, "Jack… please… come back… I'm so sorry… Jack…."

It takes all I have to leave the house.

* * *

In the weeks between the confrontation and Phillip Hamilton's duel, I visit Hercules Mulligan and keep an eye on Elizabeth and the kids. I fully regret letting out my anger on Alexander, but I keep myself away. I am sure that he does not forgive me. I watch as the kids – especially Phillip – side with Alexander, and I cannot help but smile at them. They are so innocent…

The day Phillip challenges George Eaker to a duel, I feel my heart sink in dread. I still remember my own duel with General Charles Lee. He barely survived. Phillip? I'd be shocked if he survives….

It is done relatively quickly. I force myself to stay silent and invisible as Alexander and Elizabeth rush to his side and witness his death. I force myself to stay silent as Alexander and Elizabeth are forced apart by Elizabeth's words of anguish and anger towards Alexander.

It sounds all too familiar to both of our ears, and with good reason: I had spoken that same way weeks earlier.

Alexander is alone in his study days afterward when I finally approach him again. I slowly make myself visible and audible, and Alexander turns around to face me. His face is that of grief, and my heart breaks to see the visible tears on his face from all that has happened to him.

We are silent for a solid minute before he softly asks, "Laurens?" in such a way that my heart breaks even more.

I suddenly cannot hold myself back any longer. I rush towards Alexander and throw my arms around him, tears openly pouring down my face that I have had to hold back since the publishing of the Reynolds Pamphlet.

"Alex… I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry…." are the only words I am able to let out of my mouth between our shared sobs as he holds me in return.

"No… Jack… _I'm_ sorry… this was all my fault…"

"No, the fault was just as much mine as yours. I should have stopped you… I had the power to, Alex…."

"It came anyway, Jack… and now we both suffer from that…."

"You still have a chance with Eliza, though, Alex… you still live to see another day… you can make it right…."

"How?" He pulls back and looks me in the eye. "She wants nothing to do with me anymore, Jack… just like you said she would…."

"Alex, those words were spoken out of anger and pain. That doesn't make it okay that I said them, but they should not have been spoken anyway. Besides, I think I have an idea…."

* * *

About a couple months later, the Hamilton family moves to the outskirts of New York City. Alexander commonly takes walks, and we talk to each other quite often during these walks. I can tell that they still need to talk, so once they were both in a room together without the kids, I keep the door shut and locked so that they are forced to talk. It's an unorthodox method, but it worked.

They were in there for hours before I almost hear Alexander say, "Okay, Jack, let us out already."

I let the door become free again, and after that, Elizabeth and Alexander are both reconciled with each other enough to share their grief like a couple like them should.

It is only a few years later when the Election of 1800 is looming on the horizon, and Alexander's mind is turned back to politics. The Federalist Party is all but destroyed, thanks to a lot of mudslinging towards John Adams from Alexander himself, and Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr (ugh, Burr) are opponents in the election, and they tie in the Electoral College and the House of Representatives multiple times.

Alexander and I both talk in his office about the election and who to support.

"Jefferson will only try to ruin what the Federalist Party has worked for for the past sixteen years!" he argues.

"But do you remember how Burr will _never_ tell anyone about what he believes in? He hasn't done that ever, not even before the Revolution – hell, _during_ the Revolution he never told his beliefs, even though he was quite obviously one of us!" I retort.

Alexander sighs. We've been arguing this way all night.

"Okay, okay, I see your point. You are correct, of course. Now to convince the Federalist Party to vote for him…."

* * *

If anyone knows history, they know that Jefferson wins the election that year. Burr becomes resentful that Alexander supported Jefferson instead of Burr. He visits New York City and challenges Alexander to a duel. I didn't realize it until I saw him writing his note to Elizabeth.

"Alex… you aren't… please don't tell me you are…."

"I am, Jack. I would ask you to be my second if not for the fact that you are not alive."

"Please… Alex… don't do this… you might not even survive… remember Phillip? Lee?" I plead with him, going to his eye level and holding his arms.

He merely grasps my wrists and smiles sadly. "I can only hope that our seconds will reach a peace. If they do… we will not have to worry. If they don't… I will point my pistol to the sky. I am a man of honor, Jack, you know this."

"But you could die, and your wife needs you alive, your children need you alive… _I_ need you alive," I counter.

He chuckles. "That's similar to what Washington once said to me, during the Revolution. It was when he first heard that Eliza was pregnant with Phillip… when we had that duel with Lee."

I can't help but chuckle, too. "That is a happy coincidence, Alex." My mirth is soon gone as I plead again, "Please, Alex… don't do this."

His mirth disappears and seriousness replaces it. "It's too late, Jack… the challenger must be satisfied. You know the rules."

I sigh. "Please… stay alive, Alex. For Eliza. For your children. For me."

"I will do my best, but I can promise no more; you know that, Jack."

I nod, understanding. He pulls me in for our first kiss since before that duel with Lee. I melt into it, knowing that we might only have this night that he was still alive.

* * *

The next day, history knows the story well. I can say that it's pretty accurate; I watched as it happened. Being dead, it's not that hard to be a witness and no one would be the wiser.

When Alex is shot, I rush to his side, only letting my hand solidify enough to cup his face. He can obviously feel it and reaches a hand up to place it on mine. I let it go, however, when he is taken so he can be treated and hopefully saved.

Hours later, with Elizabeth and her sister, Angelica, by his side with me, Alexander Hamilton took his last breath.

When he did, I saw his spectral form appear near mine. He looks at himself, then around him, then at me.

"I know; it's a little overwhelming at first," I say.

"You were right… a beat without a melody, Jack," he replies amid the wailing of Elizabeth. He gives her a hug before pulling away. "I shall miss her, Jack… unless we are both to be stuck here for eternity?"

As if to answer his question, a light appears nearby. We see George Washington in the light, along with Phillip Hamilton, a woman I can only assume is Alexander's mother, and our fallen comrades from the Revolution.

Washington reaches out two hands, one for each of us. "Well, gentlemen? Shall we go, then?"

We both look at each other and nod before taking a hand each.

He leads us to the Other Side together, and suddenly I understand why I stayed here at first.

The bliss from this knowledge is unlike any I have felt before – well, except when we actually arrived at the Other Side, ready to greet our friends to the Other Side.


End file.
